


Leaves of a Tree

by Eule



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:13:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24777445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eule/pseuds/Eule
Summary: A collection of short stories, mostly about Thranduil and Legolas facing every new day, fight and adventure under the canopy of their beloved forest with more or less grace.
Relationships: Galion & Legolas Greenleaf, Galion & Thranduil (Tolkien), Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	1. Linger

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote quite a few short stories about the elves of Mirkwood, most of them Thranduil, Galion and Legolas with some OCs. Can't help that, there are quite to little elves called by name from the books. So I made my own.  
> If you have ideas or something you like to read feel free to tell me, I am always glad to get a slight nudge in the right direction, even if I can't promise a fast implementation.
> 
> I will add tags and warnings while adding new chapters! 
> 
> So, but enough for now, I hope you have fun :)

Thranduil stood in the dimly lit doorway and knew he should turn away, because he would wake his son otherwise and Legolas needed his sleep as much as every other warrior of his realm. The darkness spread again and they were doing everything they could to push it back, even if it meant running themselves ragged.  
The last elven king east of the sea knew he acted selfish with every second he lingered, watching his son and breathing in the knowledge that he was safe for tonight. The first night for a month he actually slept in a proper bed without being threatened directly from their enemy.  
He knew he should turn around and go to his own room, but the sight of Legolas rooted him to this spot. His son had obviously fallen asleep while reading a book, probably to stay awake long enough so they could actually see each other after such a long time spend in the woods. And so he lingered, but he would go soon. Only one more moment.

When he was able to turn around and made the first step in the direction of his own rooms, he heard Legolas’ sleepy voice calling out for him and turned around with a sight, he had lingered to long.  
His son sat on top of the blankets, legs crossed and rubbed some sleep out of his eyes in an very un-prince-like manner, before he turned around with such a happy smile that Thranduil thought his heart might burst any second. 

“Ada” he exclaimed, voice rough with exhaustion. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep until you came back, but it seemed this book isn’t as fascinating as Galion promised it to be.” He glared at the book as if it had personally and intentionally betrayed him before he turned back to his father. “How was your day? Galion said something about the people of Dale being unreasonable again?”

Thranduil snorted at that, something most of the elves didn’t even think him capable of and sending Legolas in a merry fit of laughter even before he muttered something about unintelligent and megalomaniac humans and butlers turned into advisors over the years which are to good mannered and diplomatic for their own good. 

He knew he should go, leaving his beloved son to get some much needed rest, he could feel his tiredness even if he tried to hide it, could feel the bone deep exhaustion maybe not even sleep could help against. He felt the same in his own bones; the weight of a crown was a heavy one. And so he sat down next to him on the bed and they talked, shared memories of lighter days, merrier thoughts and good things.  
But he knew he should have never stopped at his son’s open door this night.

When Galion entered the shared living space of the two royals the next morning he was a little bit irritated to find both bedroom doors open. Because of their different schedules the both of them had decided centuries ago that a closed door meant that the inhabitant was asleep or, most of the times, trying to sleep and so won’t be disturbed by anyone.  
And so he stood quite lost in front of the two open doors, because Legolas had told him minutes ago that Thranduil was still asleep and he had to go again, but checked if he probably was able to say goodbye personally after he had left the bed two hours before sunrise to check in with the incoming patrols and Lord Berion; before he send four others and his own patrol including himself out into the forest again. But he hadn’t been able to say goodbye because his was father was still asleep, but he had left a note without disturbing or waking him.  
Galions frown deepened as his gaze fell upon Thranduils clearly untouched bed. No King, no note from the Prince, not a single crease in the sheets and a suspicion came to his mind. He walked the short distance to Legolas room on tiptoes, smiling softly at the sight that greeted him there.  
The proud elven King laid curled on his side, facing the spot Legolas had occupied for the night, eyes glazed over in sleep and a soft smile on his lips. A blanket was covering him in a way that indicated Legolas had done this before he left with as much care as possible to not disturb his father’s much needed rest. 

Galion smiled and did not linger, he retreated immediately to not wake him, closing the door silently behind him. 

The weight of a crown was a heavy one, but sometimes this burden got much lighter when it was shared. Even if its bearer wasn’t aware of it and slept peacefully through that small amount of time his family and friends squared their shoulders and did not linger to make this happen.


	2. A patrol south

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A patrol to the south didn't worked out as expected.

„Try to stay awake, don‘t move.”  
Hands flattered over his body, ripping away some fabric and then a hearty curse followed by more soft words. “You have to breathe even if it hurts; rest as much as you can and save your strength, you will need it before the reinforcement arrives.”  
If the reinforcement arrives would have been a statement much more adequate but Legolas didn’t felt like pointing that out, the elf in front of him knew their situation just as good as he did and so there wasn’t any need to waste his breath. His whole side burned and he tried to bat the probing hands away only to make everything worse and closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure.  
“Don’t move and be quiet, they haven’t found us yet and I would appreciate it if they would see us rather later than sooner. And now hold still, this will hurt.”

Legolas wasn’t even given the chance to answer or prepare himself before hot white pain exploded in his side and his body tensed with the agony it felt. He didn’t make a sound but tried to move away, but there were more hands holding him in place, a voice murmuring soft words into his ear, even if he wasn’t able to understand a single word. He didn’t know how long it took, but the pain retreated to a manageable level eventually and he sunk exhausted against the trunk of the great oak tree giving them shelter, while the hands holding him down retreated. He felt a wave of soothing wash over him, send from their momentary host and felt a pair of hands on his cheeks a second before a familiar voice begun to speak.   
“You’re with us? I know I told you to be quiet, but this is a little bit to quiet, even for my liking.”  
Legolas blinked his eyes open with much more effort than such a simple task should need and glared halfheartedly at his friend. Laeron snorted at his feebly attempt, green eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh and you were right by the way.”  
The attempt of a glare turned into confusion at those words.   
“The spider hadn’t stung you, but the ‘mere scratch’ in your side would be better described as a gash, a deep and long one and definitely poisoned, too. We are out of antivenom as you should remember so I put some of that awful salve on it, that should help for you until we got back to the stronghold or help arrives.”  
Legolas nodded, already feeling more aware than at the beginning of their hushed conversation. Laeron seemed to see that and his shoulders relaxed a fraction.   
“Stay here for another moment, catch your breath but don’t fall asleep. They couldn’t be far now and will catch up soon.”

They both knew the effects of spider poison and the antivenom, equally in which form given and so Legolas wordlessly raised the arm of his uninjured side to be helped to his feet. Laeron sighted and grabbed his longtime friend under the shoulders to lift him up, rather than pull him into a standing position before he decided to do it by himself. The blond elf paled visibly but hold his footing and gave a tight nod, when a deeper breath hadn’t him doubling over in pain. It still hurt, but it wouldn’t hinder him much in the coming fight.   
Laeron loosened his grip and put a few more arrows into his quiver, wherever he had found them. 

“I hope you agree with me if I tell you to stay in the trees for this fight?” The dark haired elf asked as they both heard the first whistles of warning from their returning scouts, meaning the Orcs following them were near. Legolas nodded as three more elves dropped on the branches next to them, they were all equally disheveled, injured and exhausted. They were the last remaining five out of 14 that had set out three month ago for a patrol to the south. They should have been back two weeks ago but had found more enemies than they feared for and three of them had left for Mandos halls. One had died on Legolas hands because it had been the only chance to safe his soul, they had tried to get him back, but with Dol Guldur so near they weren’t successful. It was the only chance to spare him endless agony and so his arrow had flown true, only a short distance away from the darkest part of the forest. They had retreated quite hurried after that, because the Orcs had been furious about losing their price such a short distance away from home.   
The remaining elves had tried to be as silent and fast as possible but their luck run out and they lost two more and got another two so gravely injured that they had decided to split up. Sending six of them on the fastest way back to the stronghold and made a distraction out of themselves to let the others escape unnoticed. Their plan worked out until they were incautious for a moment, noticing the nest of spiders to late and giving the Orcs time to catch up while they fought another enemy. Even with all spiders killed the small company of elves was absolutely outnumbered and their only chance was to stay hidden in the trees and outmaneuver them in an ambush, hoping that the other six had made it back in time and send reinforcements soon.

They positioned themselves in the thick foliage of the trees, unseen to the eyes of the dark creatures on the forest floor. It would be much easier to hide if they were unhurt and a much greater distance away from the stronghold, but neither was the case. The Orcs could smell their blood and were too close to the borders of their realm to let them go any further. They only had to last a little bit longer and they would do everything in their might to distract them long enough. They were five against about eighty Orcs and a dozen Wargs, and definitely without enough arrows to kill them all from their hidden position in the trees. They stood unmoving, arrows knocked, waiting for the signal to fire, to make their last stand for this wracked journey south. 

The first Warg-riders past them without noticing and they let the creatures move past them. The stomping of heavy feet and the cruel sounds of their guttural speech blocked every other sound from the forest and they waited until Legoslas’ low whistle sounded as the last of the creatures were about to disappear behind the trees. As one five arrows flew and hit with deadly force. They were able to repeat that two more times before the remaining Orcs noticed anything and turned around to fight the unseen danger. But as the elves had anticipated they were unorganized since their leaders were riding at the front and had yet to come back to took over command.   
But the first two elves had run out of arrows already and were changing positions in case any orcish archer had seen were the arrows had come from. Laeron dropped silently down next to Legolas, who didn’t so much as glance shortly at his friend to make sure he was unhurt, only to see the other elf putting six more arrows in his quiver, before focusing back on the black mass below.   
“We are all out of arrows and going down.” With that he vanished again to drop down on the forest floor moments later, knifes already drawn and the other three following only the blink of an eye later.   
Legolas watched from above using his last arrows wisely to safe his friends and didn’t waste a single thought in staying hidden in the trees as his quiver was empty. He dropped down in time to burry one of his knifes in the neck of an Orc who had tried to do the same with Laeron, the impact sending a wave of pain through his battered body. The green eyed warrior turned around and glared at his prince. "I told you to stay in the trees!”  
“Out of arrows” Legolas replied and ducked under a scimitar swung in his direction and then there wasn’t any time for conversation. They tried to stay together as good as they were able to and shield each other’s backs, but it wasn’t an easy task. The floor around them was littered with dead Orcs and one of the Wargs, the elves were covered in black blood and sporting several injuries of their own when they could hear a lone bird call. No ordinary bird call, but the sign that reinforcement wasn’t far away and this gave them the strength to hold on a little bit longer until the first arrows flew out of the trees, decreasing the number of Orcs considerably. And while the arrows kept flying, more elves joined the five on the floor, knives and swords making their way through orcish armor and filthy fur. 

\-----

Legolas blinked dark spots from his vision while he looked around for any elven body on the ground but saw none and relief washed over him.  
He spotted Laeron talking to Maedor, the Captain of the patrol which had joined them in their fight and made his unsteady way towards them. Before he felt himself swaying there was a steading hand at his elbow and he blinked rapidly until Maedors concerned face swam into focus. But before he could say something the elf in front of him did. “You look rough and you are late. Two things you can explain yourself to your father.”   
Legolas would have groaned but he thought that to be too much effort, now that the adrenalin of the battle was fading every single one of his senses screamed at him with hurt from the poison, the cuts and bruises received during their fights made themselves known and sore muscles protested every movement. He felt ready to pass out and sleep for a week or two, he wasn’t picky about the amount of time, as long as it was undisturbed.   
He felt another pair of hands peeling away the blood soaked tunic where it stuck to the long gash in his side and flinched away only to hear Laeron tutting at him somewhere between annoyed and concerned. “It’s me and it looks worse.”  
Maedron twisted and turned to get a better look and whistled lowly. “That indeed doesn’t look so good; I would say we split up. Some of the warriors will stay here and burn the corpses while the rest of us escort the five of you back home.”   
He saw the weary expressions of his friends and added in a softer tone: “It isn’t like splitting a group of eleven while being chased. You are safe, our people are safe thanks to you. We are enough for this task and the trees will tell us when something is amiss.”

It was already getting dark when they reached the stronghold and the five of them breathed in relief. This would be their first night in safety since three month ago and they all felt like dropping on the spot. Legolas dismissed his three remaining archers with the flick of his hand and turned his apologetic gaze to Laeron before he began to limp away and calledd over his shoulder: “I need you for a few more minutes, we need to scribble down the important things before I report to the king and then you can rest.”

Laeron groaned. “We shouldn’t have given him the anti-venom. We shouldn’t have. Really. Now he will pretend he is fine until it wears off and he collapses somewhere while writing reports or thinking about new patrol plans. We should have been a lot wiser than this.”  
Maedor slung his arm over the slightly smaller elf and began to move him inside. “Believe me, he won’t get a chance for that. I knew three people which aren’t amused above your delay or the report the other half of your patrol gave them.”  
Laeron smirked, he could guess whom exactly his friend was referring to and maybe he could even spare some pity for Legolas when it was time to face them, but right know they had lost him out of their sight and hurried inside.  
They found him in one of the common rooms, the Captains had appropriated as theirs a long time ago, standing on the big table in the middle of the room holding a large map of their woods and its surroundings. Hands propped up on the surface, long blond hair hiding his face but they knew he was frowning, eyebrows drawn together and lips moving silently. He hadn’t let go of his weapons and Laeron himself felt uneasy to do so, even if he knew he was safe inside their mountain home.  
“Okay, let’s get done with this. You two need food, healers, sleep and a bath. Not necessarily in this order but I think we shouldn’t waste our time with things that could very well wait until tomorrow. And put your weapons away, you won’t need them anymore.” Maedor stated and put his own weapons aside even if they were within easy reach, Laeron followed his advice hesitantly and Legolas ignored them both in favor of mapping out their patrol and everything they had learned.

No one disturbed them and they had wrapped up everything important within an hour, the detailed report would have to wait until tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, Laeron wasn’t even sure it was still today and thinking about it was beyond his ability for the moment. Maedor seemed to notice this and grabbed his arm while gesturing one of his warriors inside.   
“I will bring Laeron to the healers, you escort Legolas to the king and to the healing wards after that only the king told you otherwise.”   
The dark haired elf nodded and followed his prince out of the room while Laeron looked quizzically at his friend. “You know that this poor soul is no match for him if he wants to vanish, don’t you?”  
“Yes, I am indeed quite aware of that, but you are more likely to pass out any second and so I will join them after I brought you to someone who takes care of your wounds before that happens.”

Legolas strode through the corridors without taking notice of his surroundings or his worn out appearance. He had left his bloodied outer tunic in the Captains room, wearing an equally bloodied shirt now but it was much cleaner than the tunic had been otherwise. He felt tired and the anti-venom was wearing off, leaving him in more pain than he would admit. His body needed rest so badly by now that it was a conscious act to keep going and stay upright as he stood in front of the throne, facing his father. Gaze focused somewhere to a spot over his left shoulder, reporting what was necessary and handing over the report as he had finished. He could feel his father’s heavy gaze on him, the same with Galion and Berion. He hadn’t looked at the last two but could sense them, concern radiating off of them in waves. He was shaking slightly by now and hoped his father won’t notice at the same time he hoped he would and dismiss him.  
“Thank you, Captain. I await your detailed report in a few days and now get some rest and let the healers see to your wounds.”  
Legolas bowed shortly and made his way out of the room without looking back. How he had missed his father and truth to be told he wanted nothing more than go back and let himself be enfolded and comforted in his strong arms. But he can’t, because they had to be king and Captain for now, not father and son. He could feel the trees and his father reaching out for him, soothing his troubled mind. He felt darkness take hold of him but couldn’t allow that to happen right here in front of so many others, even if it was late there were a lot of advisors here and a few unknown faces, which meant a delegation of some other realm, he wasn’t able to figure out which in his current state. He needed to get away as fast as possible and didn’t recognized Maedors hand at his elbow and the small of his back until the other elf began to whisper into his ear. “It is me, don’t worry, focus on my voice, you can rest soon, Laeron is already fast asleep and your father will see you later when you are settled.” He listened to his friends soft murmured words until they reached their destination and then darkness took him away to blessed oblivion.

\-----

When he woke everything felt heavy and he was still beyond tired. Darkness surrounded him and ever so slowly his senses came back. He could hear voices talking quietly next to him and felt the warmth of a soft blanket around him and in no particular hurry to wake any further. He drifted in this semi-conscious space for a while longer, totally contempt with it for the time being and was about to go back to sleep when he must have made a sound or shown any other sign of waking because the voices stopped immediately, before he could feel a hand on his cheek and a low voice whispering into his ear. “Go back to sleep, do not wake. You are safe, your patrol is safe, the injured survived, you need more rest. Sleep.”  
And so he did.

The next time he woke it wasn’t like the last time. His body hurt and didn’t dared to even try to move but he felt more alert and it was only a short discussion with his heavy eyelids, that up was as good a position as down. He blinked a few times to get the world into focus and was greeted with the sight of a pair of green eyes and a wide smile.   
“There you are! You slept for days princeling. For days. I don’t know how you want to explain this to your father or Lord Berion or Galion but I am glad you are still able to explain yourself. You had us worried for a while.”  
Then there was a cup of cool water at his lips and he drank some, coughing as it was a little bit too much. Laeron put the cup away and propped him up some more.  
“Don’t drown him. I think the healers won’t appreciate that after all the work they put into him over the last couple of days.”  
Legolas coughed some more and turned his head around to see Maedor and Gelir leaning casually in the doorway. The former speaking between bites of his apple, the latter looking like he had come back only a short while ago, hair still damp from a bath and sweeping concerned eyes over him. He seemed satisfied and Legolas guessed that he hadn’t seen him since he had forced the anti-venom down his throat on a clearing full of dead orcs and stayed behind to burn them and made sure no others were following.   
The blonde prince relaxed further, they were home, safe and together. There were few things more important to him, than the three elves surrounding him right now. All healthy and unhurt, chatting and joking about one thing or another. The sight of a paper loaded chair next to his bed told him that his father or Galion, probably both, had stayed with him while he slept and would return soon. He smiled to himself, as long as they were together the darkness from Dol Guldur won’t defeat them, they would stand united against every evil the dark Lord sent into their direction. They would protect their trees and their people as they already had for centuries, with or without help didn’t matter.   
“What’s on your mind princeling?” Laeron asked, sensing the heavy but content mood of his friend. Legolas eyes twinkled with mischief and he send his friends into fits of laughter as he asked innocently, when he was allowed to get out of the bed again because he felt already bored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	3. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A promise hard to fulfill.

Legolas had one knee on the floor, twin knives raised above his head, each one blocking a sword, arms shaking with the effort to hold them up. Chest heaving with each breath which didn’t seemed to get enough air into his burning lungs; sweat soaked tunic clinging to his battered body. His eyes were downcast, not looking at his opponents, probably because it took every ounce of his strength left to stay upright. 

Thranduil added a little bit more weight to his sword, forcing Legolas knife back a little bit further at the same time Berion did so with the other knife and his own sword. His son sucked in another hard fought breath and Thranduil thought he looked ready to pass out any second, but he did so for hours and was still on his feet. His troubled mind far stronger than his body and he feared that they had to stop this soon, for his own sake. 

“I think it is enough, Thranduilion.” Berions incredible soft voice said only seconds after Thranduils own thought to end this. He knew that tone of voice and what the use of this name meant. How often had his lifelong friend had approached him like that, with his father’s name on his lips? It had been too many times to still be countable.   
He had called him Oropherion after the many losses they had endured together, so much grief shared, but they had never abandoned each other or their people and had cared for each other. Legolas knew that, too and Thranduil hold his breath. This was the first time he was called by his father’s name in such a gentle and caring manner. He had indeed been rebuked with it; heated arguments between these two elves so dear to him had ended with his son being called this, because he had overstepped a dangerous line that couldn’t be tolerated but was inevitable to avoid when you train not only a prince but a great warrior, a Captain, too.   
But he had never been cared for like this and he lowered his twin knives of his own doing a little bit more and Thranduil felt himself relax a fraction, he reacted as he should, as Thranduil himself did when called Oropherion in that tone, stopping whatever he was doing, listening and sharing the weight of whatever had happened, letting himself be taken care of.   
But he was wrong, with incredible speed and more strength he should have left he forced himself to his feet again, leaving them both no other chance than to spring back a short distance when he attacked instantly in a flurry of movements too fast for all but elven eyes to follow. 

Thranduils arm rattled as he wasn’t fast enough to avoid a hit with both knives, but it was probably worth it, because with both knives directed at him, Berion would be able to end this; hopefully without hurting his son. But Legolas wasn’t defeated easily and the King glared at his friend as they stood side by side a few moments later, waiting for the next attack.

“I have never been more annoyed with your training then at this very moment” he declared and got an unimpressed look from the other warrior.  
“You are only annoyed that he is already nearly as good as we are and will be much better than the both of us together when this cursed age ends” he replied and then, as Legolas began to move again. “You will definitely not like what I do now.”  
Thranduil had no chance to reply because Berion stormed forward to meet his son at full speed, but instead of raising his sword to defend himself he let it drop to the floor. Thranduil froze in horror and saw Legolas’ eyes widen in shock, twisting his body away because he would never be able to stop without impaling or wounding his weapons master, his uncle, his mentor, his patron, his friend deadly. And then he flung his knives away, as he realized no matter how fast and agile he was he wouldn’t be able to fully avoid contact, leaving him with no other option then that.  
But even this didn’t prevented Thranduils heard from stopping, he starred at the two elves in front of him, both weaponless and starring at each other – on in horror, the other with calm confidence – and then Berion pulled Legolas closer, holding him tight to his chest and whispered something into his ear. And after that the younger elves eyes filled with tears and he slumped visibly, all fight draining out of him at once, exhaustion replacing it instantly; his knees buckled and Berion tightened his grip.

By the time they had brought him inside, bathed and all but forced a few of his favorite fruits and some water down his throat he was ready to drop on the spot. His eyes were half shut but flew open every time he so much as nodded off for a few seconds. His whole body shook uncontrollably with the memories of today’s mission. His fourth mission as a Captain, his first mission ending with one of the most important duties a Captain had, but it was the hardest one of them all. 

At their coronation every Captain swore to protect the King with his own life. Protect the Kingdom with every breath they took and may it be their last. To praise every small ray of sunshine reaching the dark forest floor, value every life beneath the thick canopy, see to every living being, hear the voices calling for help, equally to whom it belongs, to elf, man, dwarf, bird or tree. They swore to stay true to themselves, promised to fight the darkness that spread through the forest and end all lives of every being beyond saving. Which didn’t only meant killing Orcs and other dark creatures or hurt animals which couldn’t be healed.   
It meant saving an elven soul when you can’t safe the body, too. They swore to kill any of their own warriors when any attempt to rescue him alive failed or there wasn’t any possibility to do so.  
Legolas had done so today for the first time. He had fulfilled his oath and shot an arrow through the heart of someone he knew for centuries to spare him never ending torture. He saved the soul of one he had played with as a child, explored the world with, joked and jested, completed warrior training with, they had even danced together while drunk on one feast or another, laughing at themselves and being laughed at by others. 

The nearly soundless opening of the door let Legolas flinch and grab for weapons that weren’t there.  
“Thranuilion look at me.” And Legolas did, shaking even more than before as Thranduil stood and walked to the open door to close it again after a concerned looking Galion had entered.

“I was with the healers, Laeron and Gelir will be alright after a few days of rest, Maeron will stay with them. And I brought a strong sleeping draught.”   
Only now Thranduil noticed the still steaming cup and nodded in relief as he sat back his sons left other side, while Berion still sat on his right, talking softly.   
Galion kneeled down in front of their prince and waited until the older elf had finished whatever he had told the blond before and smiled softly up at them as he placed the cup between still shaking fingers without letting go.  
Legolas starred at the mug unseeing and Galion gently helped him drink until the amount of the draught drunk satisfied him.

It didn’t took long for the herbs to fulfill their purpose and while Legolas’ head sank down on Berions shoulder, eyes fully closed and his mind free of dark dreams, Thranduils head sank into his hands, elbows resting on his knees as he sucked in a shaky breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob.  
He felt someone wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and Berions soft voice calling out for him. “Get some rest Oropherion, Galion and I am here to watch over you both. Rest my friend.”

And so they both did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a little bit darker than I hoped it to be and I have some lighter chapters written, so there will be easier things in the future!


End file.
